Burton Guster: Psychic Extraordinaire
by g0shawk
Summary: Gus has an accident that somehow leads to him having real psychic abilities. Then he gets a vision involving Shawn and Lassiter…
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych or its characters, etc.**

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Everything was blurry when he opened his eyes. He looked around, trying to identify his surroundings. It was a nondescript off-white room with a clock and a small black and white television set up in the corner. Something beeped steadily in the background. The room went dark for a moment, but before he had time to panic, he realized he had just blinked. Sheepishly, he glanced down and saw that he was on a small sterile-looking bed. Oh…hospital, he realized. He groaned as his head throbbed suddenly.

"Gus?" Shawn's face came into view above him, looking relieved. "Oh good, you're awake."

"Wh-what happened?"

"You don't remember?" The relief changing to worry, Shawn turned to the nurse, who Gus hadn't even noticed. "Is that normal?"

The nurse came closer to check on Gus. "Just a side-effect. He'll be as good as new soon enough." Directing her attention to Gus, she explained that he only had a mild concussion and would be able to leave soon. Once she had left, Shawn recounted the events of the day to his friend.

"We were working on a case—the one with the waitress…do you remember that?"

Gus tried to think, ignoring the persistent pain in his head. "Yeah…we went to question her boss at his house and…"

"He knocked you out," Shawn filled in guiltily when it became apparent that Gus couldn't continue.

Gus glared at him. "I told you we should have called the Chief!"

"But if we'd—wait," Shawn paused mid-sentence. "You remember!"

"Oh…" Gus lost track of what he had been saying as he struggled to go over what had happened. The memories started to return in bits and pieces.

Excitedly, Shawn began grabbing the meager possessions around them, reverting to his usual hyperactive state.

"What are you doing?" Gus asked, inspecting his head carefully with his hand.

"Getting ready to go, of course," Shawn responded cheerily. "You must be okay if you're remembering things again, right?"

"Shawn, I'm sure I have to stay here for—ow—" he winced as his fingers came into contact with the sore spot. "—Observation or something. Just in case."

His friend pouted, shoulders drooping visibly. Opening his mouth to say something, Shawn looked carefully at Gus once more before deciding against whatever he had been planning on saying. "Yeah…okay. I guess I'll go then. I was going to meet Hannah—"

"The waitress?" Gus interjected. He shook his head, used to his friend's activities.

"Right," Shawn acknowledged. "But then you weren't waking up so I was gonna cancel on her, except now you're okay and apparently you're staying here, so--"

"Go, go," Gus interrupted. "You're giving me a headache anyway."

"Sorry," Shawn said as he backed towards the doorway.

"Watch out for the—" Gus started, putting a hand up in warning. Shawn bumped into the table by the door, shaking it and causing the clock to fall to the floor.

"—clock," Gus finished.

"Oops." Shawn crouched down and picked up the clock, looking it over briefly and then returning it to its place on the table. "See ya," he waved as he stepped out.

"Shawn?" Gus stopped him.

"Yeah?" Shawn turned back questioningly.

"Thanks," Gus said softly. "For waiting."

"Sure," Shawn smiled. "See you tomorrow."

Gus nodded and waved goodbye. When Shawn had left, he let his head fall back to the pillow. His head really was beginning to pound in the first signs of what would probably end up being a massive migraine. He closed his eyes, hoping he could sleep it off. As he drifted off, images flickered in his mind. Cars and flowers, car flowers, flower cars. Reds and greens and yellows, and a dark blue that didn't quite fit in. He fell asleep smiling at the colors.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

The next morning, he woke up later than he did customarily. He shrugged it off as his body's way of telling him he needed to recover. After picking at the meager hospital food offered for breakfast, he called Shawn to come get him. The nurse had informed him that he seemed to be fine, but to let them know if the headaches got worse. As soon as Shawn arrived, they checked out; Gus was eager to get some real food, as he was feeling hungrier than usual. They hurried down the steps and headed towards the parking lot. As Shawn chattered away, Gus smiled at the sight of a young girl standing on tiptoes to examine the plants within the huge decorative flower plots that marked the entrance to the hospital. A light breeze blew around them, carrying mixed outdoorsy smells with it.

Gus was about to continue walking when something clicked in his mind. For the first time in his life he realized what people meant when they described something that had happened in slow motion. He turned at what seemed like an agonizing pace, his gaze sliding back towards the girl. A moment later, he heard the squeal of tires and saw a blur of color out of the corner of his eye. Deaf to Shawn's questioning shout, he pushed off the cement, sprinting at what seemed like a snail's pace towards the girl. As soon as he reached her, he took hold of her waist and lifted the shrieking child into the air. Bending his knees and shoving his feet against the ground again, he leapt out of the way mere seconds before a dark blue SUV crashed into the cement wall of the flower plot, right where the girl had been standing. There were screams from around him, but Gus barely heard them. His head was throbbing as though someone had hit him with a hammer. He had just enough time to put the girl down carefully before the headache became overwhelming. Wavering, he toppled sideways, the scene around him fading into darkness as he fell.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

"Gus? Gus?"

Gus was wrenched into consciousness by the sound of his friend's panicked voice and slight sting of being slapped on the cheek.

"Gus!" Shawn's relief was evident. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" Gus mumbled, getting a distinct feeling of déjà vu. He squinted up at the face directly above him. Shawn's forehead was wrinkled in worry.

"You pulled the girl out of the way, remember? Then you just fell!"

"Oh." Gus was silent for a moment. The memory returned, and he tried to sit up suddenly.

"Whoa," Shawn said, stopping him. "Are you crazy? Don't move."

"The girl!" Gus exclaimed.

"She's fine," Shawn reassured him. "How did you know that car was coming? I didn't even see that!"

"I—" Gus thought about it. "I don't know…the flowers. She was looking at the flowers, and…"

"And?" Shawn prodded, when he didn't continue.

Gus winced as his head began to pound again. "My head--"

"The doctors are coming," Shawn told him, concern lacing his voice.

Gus noticed that there was a small crowd surrounding them. His eyes fell upon the little girl he had rescued, her hand now held tightly by a balding man in a worn grey suit. Seeing that Gus was looking, the man stepped forward.

"Thank you so much," the man said fervently, shaking his head in amazement. "If you hadn't--"

"Don't mention it," Gus managed an embarrassed smile as he waved his hand dismissively.

Two men arrived with a stretcher, and the crowd finally dispersed as they lifted Gus onto it and started to roll him away. Shawn stood up and followed closely, keeping a hand on the stretcher, near Gus's shoulder.

After several standard tests, the doctors told Gus that they could find nothing wrong with his head. They could try some more intensive methods if the headaches continued, but they did not want to cause any unnecessary complications. Shawn sat nearby, uncharacteristically silent, as all of the information was relayed. "You okay?" Gus asked wearily, after the doctors had left and his friend still hadn't said anything.

"Yeah," Shawn said, a little too quickly.

"Don't blame yourself," Gus told him.

"But it's my fault you were knocked out in the first place!" Shawn blurted.

"True," Gus acknowledged.

"Thanks," Shawn said sarcastically.

Gus hid a grin. After a moment, Shawn opened his mouth again. "Nah," Gus said.

"What?" Shawn gazed at him in confusion.

"What?"

"You just said 'nah'," Shawn told him.

"Oh." Gus paused. "Didn't you--?"

"I didn't say anything." Shawn squinted his eyes as he thought. "What did you think I said?"

"Nothing," Gus answered.

"Then why did you--?"

"All right, all right, I thought you asked if I wanted anything," Gus said, irritated by what was starting to feel like an interrogation.

Shawn's eyes widened. "That _is_ what I was going to say," he said slowly.

Gus shrugged.

"Doesn't that seem weird to you?" Shawn asked.

"Not really," Gus said. "It just seemed obvious that that's what you said—or were going to say—whatever."

"Out of ALL the possible things I could have said?!" Shawn threw his arms up. "I could have said…well, anything!"

"Like what?" Gus replied shrewdly. "How are you, are you okay, I'm bored…"

Shawn frowned at him. "Maybe I was going to say 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.'"

Gus raised an eyebrow.

"You never know!" Shawn exclaimed.

"What's your point?" Gus asked calmly.

Shawn put both of his hands behind his back. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Gus stared at him in surprise. "Wow…non sequitur much?"

Shawn looked back blankly. "Was that English?"

Gus rolled his eyes. "Never mind. What are you doing?"

"Holding up my fingers and waiting for you to tell me how many," Shawn answered cheekily.

"But _why_?" Gus asked. "Unless you really are just that bored…"

"I'm testing a theory," Shawn said. "Just tell me."

Gus sighed. "Fine, three. Happy?"

"No," Shawn rebuked him. "You're guessing. I want you to _tell _me."

"Shawn, I--"

"Gus!" Shawn interrupted impatiently.

Seeing that Shawn was being serious, _for once in his life_, Gus thought to himself, he did as his friend asked. As he concentrated on the fingers he could not see, he randomly got the feeling that it was six. Going with it, he told Shawn, who, upon hearing the number, went slightly pale.

"Okay, what about now?"

"You mean I was right?" Gus asked, surprised.

Shawn nodded. "Do it again."

Gus concentrated, as he had before. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably as the feeling appeared again, bringing with it a different number. "Ten." It wasn't a guess. His head started to hurt a little.

Shawn gaped. "And now?"

The feeling came quicker, easier this time. "Two." The headache was coming back.

They went on for several minutes before his head started pounding too painfully for him to continue. He had not missed one number.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

Shawn returned the next day, having been kicked out by both Gus and the nurses the night before. Gus stared warily at the huge bag his friend had with him. "You'll see," Shawn said, before Gus had a chance to ask what was in it.

"Now who's psychic," Gus muttered.

Shawn reached into the bag and then put his hand behind his back again, making sure that Gus didn't see what he had picked up. "Ready for Round Two?" Shawn asked.

Gus sighed, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Fine."

"All right, what am I holding?"

Gus concentrated, as he had before. It was harder this time – it came in steps rather than as one answer. "Is it…red?" he asked. Shawn nodded. Gus squinted at Shawn as though it would somehow help him to see the object better. Now he was getting the colors black and silver. And a shape…round. More than one round thing. Putting everything together logically, Gus ventured a guess. "Red car?"

Shawn brought his hand from behind his back and held the toy out for Gus to see. He was looking at Gus strangely, so Gus avoided meeting his eyes. "I didn't actually see the car," he admitted. After telling Shawn how he had deducted what the object was, they practiced with several more objects from the bag. He was just starting to get better at seeing the object in question as a whole when his head began to throb again.

Shawn watched him worriedly. "We can stop," he offered, his voice revealing that he obviously didn't want to.

To be perfectly honest, Gus didn't particularly want to stop either – this was getting more and more interesting. "Just give me a few minutes," he told his friend. "I'll be fine."

By the end of the day, Gus had gotten good enough that he could name the object before Shawn had even finished taking it out of the bag. The headaches seemed to come most often when he was trying something new, or when he had gone too long without a break. Once he got accustomed to a certain task, it got easier.

Shawn volunteered to subject himself to hospital food for dinner, and they ate silently, pondering the discoveries of the day. Gus played with the remaining food on his plate, pushing it around with his fork. Finally, he said in a small voice, "Do you think—"

Shawn glanced at him and hesitated slightly before nodding. "I think you really are—"

They both paused, not quite ready to say the word and admit it.

"Can you quit your other job now?" Shawn asked with a grin.

"No," Gus said shortly. He hid a smile at the disappointed look on Shawn's face. "Even if I am…psychic," he flinched at the word, "I still need a decent job that pays well."

Now that it was out in the open, it wasn't going away. "How weird is that?" Shawn said in disbelief. "I pretend to be psychic and you end up being the real one."

"I wish it was you," Gus admitted. "It doesn't really fit me, you know?"

"Burton Guster, Psychic," Shawn said in an official-sounding voice, moving his hands exaggeratedly in the shape of a plaque.

Gus grabbed Shawn's arm suddenly. "You'd better not tell anyone about this."

"What?" Shawn exclaimed in surprise. "Why not?"

"Are you kidding?" Gus hissed. "If anyone found out about this, my reputation would be ruined."

"Your reputation as what?" Shawn inquired. "A pharmaceutical salesman?"

"Yes," Gus said, completely serious.

Shawn started to argue, and then stopped as an idea came to him.

Gus watched him uneasily. "Stop looking so happy, it's creepy."

Shawn ignored him. "This is gonna be awesome! Now we'll be able to solve even more cases!" He grabbed at Gus excitedly. "We'll never be wrong!"

"Shawn, I don't know how to control this thing. All I've done so far is correctly guess how many fingers you hold up and what kind of toys you're hiding behind your back."

"And you saved that little girl!"

Oh yeah. He had almost forgotten about that. Gus sighed. Just when he had started to adjust to this new schedule, life had to throw another doozy his way.

"Don't you want to help people?" Shawn asked earnestly.

Now that just wasn't playing fair. Gus wiped a hand across his face resignedly. How could he say no? He gave in. "Of course, Shawn."

"So you'll do it?" Shawn said, almost holding his breath.

Gus wondered briefly what he was getting himself into. "Yes," he replied. He held up a hand before Shawn could say anything. "But there are going to be rules."

Shawn groaned.

Gus glared at him. "One: I will not be doing any ridiculous spasms or falsetto voices. Two: You stay the official 'psychic' – I'll feed you whatever information I get. And Three: I will absolutely, under no circumstances whatsoever, use my powers to help you find dates. Got it?"

Shawn's face fell at the last one, but he cheered up immediately. Holding his hand out, they bumped fists. "Hells to the yeah!" Jumping forward, he then grabbed Gus in a rib-crushing hug. "This is going to be awesome!"

As Shawn held him, and he attempted to keep breathing, the scene in front of Gus changed completely. He could still feel Shawn, and he knew that logically, he was still in the hospital, but the view in front of him now was as realistic as it could get. He was in the police station, watching Lassiter work at his desk. He was just wondering if the vision could possibly get any more boring when Shawn showed up. His friend exchanged a cautious glance with Lassiter before heading down the hallway that led to the interrogation rooms. After a moment, Lassiter peered around to see if anyone was watching, and then headed off in the same direction. Gus felt the arms around him draw away, and the vision left at the same time, leaving him back in the hospital bed. Shawn was looking at him expectantly, as though waiting for an answer.

Gus shook his head to clear it. "Sorry, did you say something?"

Shawn began to speak, but Gus spaced out, thinking about the vision he had just gotten, and wondering what it meant. After missing Shawn's words for a second time, Gus apologized, explaining that he was just tired. Shawn seemed to accept this, and left Gus for the night, promising to come back again the next day. Gus hardly thought that needed saying.

Thoughts about the vision kept him awake for several hours, but he eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, he woke with a start and sat up as an idea occurred to him. He waited impatiently for Shawn to arrive so that he could test it. When Shawn finally showed up, Gus wasn't sure whether he should explain his idea right away or test it first. Deciding that Shawn would probably guess that something was up as soon as he tried it, he opted for the first choice. To a point, that is. He simply said that he wanted to test a theory, and he promised to explain everything to Shawn afterwards. Shawn agreed quickly, although Gus could tell that he was practically dying of curiosity. Gus took the offered hand, and, for good measure, held it with both of his. Nothing happened. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on Shawn and thought about the vision from yesterday. Several minutes went by in complete silence before Shawn got impatient.

"Is anything happening?"

Gus opened his eyes and frowned in annoyance as his concentration was broken. "Shawn, I told you to stay quiet."

"Sorry, man," Shawn apologized. "It's just hard to stay still for this long without even talking."

"I know," Gus said. "But could you try, please?"

"Fine," Shawn grumbled. "But this better be good."

Gus let his eyes shut again, and tried to concentrate. This time, the feeling came quickly. It was like the one he had gotten when he had been able to guess the number of fingers Shawn was holding up, but it was on a much larger scale. A scene appeared in front of him as though his eyes were wide open, and he was there, once again. It was still the police station, and the same scene played out in front of him. This time, however, it was not cut off. Gus held Shawn's hand tightly and squeezed, letting his friend know that something was going on. Concentrating back on the picture in his mind, he found that he could will himself to follow Shawn and Lassiter down the hallway. He turned a corner and realized then that, of all the possible things he might have expected to see, this had definitely _not_ been on the list. He pulled out hurriedly, dropping Shawn's hand as though it had burned him.

"What?" Shawn said, puzzled, as Gus stared at him.

"You…uh," Gus wondered how much he should say. What if this was just some sort of hallucination and it wasn't even real? That certainly seemed more likely than the possibility that what he had seen would actually come true. "I…I think I had a vision," Gus told Shawn slowly.

"Really?" Shawn looked at him eagerly. "What happened? Is it the future? What's it about?"

"I don't know how much I should say," Gus said honestly.

"Why?" Shawn started to protest. "It doesn't matter if…wait…" Comprehension crossed his face. "It's about me, isn't it?"

Gus nodded.

"Is it bad?" Shawn asked.

Gus hesitated. "I guess that depends on how you define bad."

"Do I die?"

"Shawn!" Gus glared at him. "You dying falls under the category of bad!"

"Just checking. Okay…" Shawn pursed his lips in thought. After less than a minute, he threw his arms up in surrender. "I give up! What happens?"

Gus shifted uneasily. "I don't know if I should say…"

"Oh come on, Gus! Don't be a paranoid old seer! You're not going to mess with the cosmos or something by telling me!"

"How do you know?" Gus said quickly, slightly worried by the prospect.

Shawn looked at him as though he had just revealed that he still believed in the existence of Wilting Flower.

Gus conceded. "All right, all right. It had to do with…Lassiter. Uh…you and Lassiter."

"Aw man, is he gonna throw me up against a wall again?" Shawn complained. "My shoulder hurt for days after that last time."

"Actually…uh…you're the one that's going to throw him against a wall." Gus felt himself flush.

"What?" Shawn exclaimed. "I know I mess with Lassy a lot, but I'm not completely crazy!" Eyeing Gus, he quickly said, "No comments from the peanut gallery. I wouldn't risk a lawsuit. Let alone the possibility of getting shot."

Gus scratched his head nervously. "I don't think you're going to have to worry about either of those happening."

"Really?" Shawn said, puzzled. "Why not?" His gaze sharpened. "What aren't you telling me? Just spit it out, buddy. It can't be that bad."

"I'm going to have to disagree," Gus said. He took a deep breath before continuing. "The vision…" he paused to clear his throat. "The vision was of you and Lassiter…" he rubbed a hand across his eyes as he remembered. "It was of you and Lassiter making out," he finally said, forcing the words out in a rush.

"What?!" Shawn exclaimed.

"Don't you dare make me say it again," Gus told him.

Shawn stood up from the chair he had been sitting on next to the bed and started to pace around the room. "Seriously?" he inquired finally, turning back to face Gus.

Gus nodded silently.

"Wow. Lassiter. Me and Lassiter. Lassiter and me. Making out. Me and _Lassiter_." Shawn rambled as he processed the information. "So does this mean that it's definitely going to happen?" he questioned Gus. "Since you saw it? Or is that just one possibility?"

"How should I know? You're the expert in psychic stuff," Gus said.

"Yeah, but you're the real psychic," Shawn replied.

"As of, like, a day ago," Gus reminded him.

"Right." Shawn sat back down in the chair, but his foot kept tapping a steady rhythm against the floor as he bounced his leg nervously.

"What are you going to do?" Gus asked.

"I…I don't know," Shawn said, still slightly bewildered. "I mean, this is _Lassiter_ we're talking about. Hardcore, hates me, Head Detective Lassiter. And he was married! To a woman!"

"_Was_," Gus emphasized. "I wonder why they separated…"

"You don't think…" Shawn started.

Gus shrugged.

They sat in heavy silence for a few minutes before Shawn jumped up again. "I've gotta go." He was already halfway out the door before Gus had a chance to react.

"Go? Go where? Shawn!" Gus shouted after him.

**To Be Continued…**

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	2. Chapter 2

Shawn shoved his hands deep into his pockets, peering uneasily at the main doors of the police station. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. One lousy so-called vision and he was suddenly ready to believe all the psychic bull that he had always made fun of? Then again, he had never been one to back away from something interesting, especially when it involved danger.

"Hey Shawn!"

He turned to find Juliet approaching, a smile on her face.

"Oh, hi Jules." He returned the smile easily.

"Were you planning on going in, or just standing there all day?" she asked, gesturing at the doors.

"I haven't really decided yet," Shawn admitted.

"Anything I can do to help?" Jules inquired.

Shawn started to shake his head. "Not re—wait, actually…yeah. How's Lassiter feeling today?"

"Well, I haven't seen him recently, but he got to discharge his firearm a few times this morning in the case we were working on, and you know how he loves that."

"That's a good sign," Shawn said, feeling slightly better. The little voice in his head that sounded oddly similar to Gus told him that he was going insane, and ought to turn back right that instant, but Shawn chose to ignore it, as usual. He glanced at Juliet. "You're not going to ask why I want to know?"

"No," Juliet said firmly. "Somehow I don't think I would like your answer."

Shawn gave her a lopsided grin. "You know me too well."

Juliet smiled at him again. "Good luck."

Shawn waited for a few minutes after she had disappeared into the station before taking a deep breath and opening the doors.

Lassiter was standing near his desk, laughing with Buzz. Shawn rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was hallucinating. Now Lassiter was clapping Buzz on the shoulder. Maybe the stars were aligned after all. What better time than now to approach the normally grouchy detective? Shawn waited for Buzz to leave before heading towards Lassiter. The Head Detective sat down by his desk, but didn't appear to have any work to do. Shawn approached nervously. He wasn't sure why he was so tense. He was normally decent at masking his real emotions, but something about this situation was making him particularly anxious. Probably the Lassiter element. And the whole vision thing. Lost in his thoughts, he walked on automatic, not realizing that he had reached his destination until he bumped into Lassiter's desk.

"Spencer?" Lassiter glowered up at him, but Shawn could tell he was faking, for once.

"Oh…hi Lassy. Um, Carlton. I mean…uh…what's up?" Shawn stammered awkwardly, Gus's words about the vision still floating around in his head.

Lassiter raised an eyebrow. "Are you high, Spencer?"

"What? No," Shawn said indignantly.

"Just checking," Lassiter shrugged. When Shawn didn't leave, Lassiter waved his hand at him as if to shoo him away. "You can go now."

"Actually, I uh…I wanted to…um…talk to you…about…stuff." _I wanted to talk to you about stuff?! What am I, five?!_ Shawn chastised himself mentally. _Think. Calm down. Talk like an adult. What to talk about…_

"Stuff?" Lassiter's eyebrow went up even higher.

"Yeah, I mean no, I mean…" Shawn rubbed a hand over his face. Keeping the hand there, he peered at Lassiter from between his fingers. "Can I start over?"

Lassiter's mouth twitched in what Shawn could have sworn was almost a smile. "I suppose."

"Thanks," Shawn said gratefully, removing the hand. "Right, so I was just wondering…um, why did you and your wife split up?" He clapped his hand over his mouth this time. Mumbling through it, he said, "Oh my god, I can't believe I just said that."

Lassiter frowned, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. "Why would you bring that up?"

"I'm sorry," Shawn apologized. "I'll just go now." He was already turning when Lassiter stopped him.

"No, stay," Lassiter ordered, voice hard. "I want to know why you are asking about my relationship with my ex-wife."

Shawn stared into Lassiter's interrogation face. Cold and calculating, determined to wrench the truth out of the suspect.

Shawn's shoulders slumped. He must have already lost his chance. What was the use in evading the question now? "I—" he looked down, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor. "I was just wondering if…" he flushed unexpectedly. "I can't say it."

"Spencer, just spit it out," Lassiter growled.

Shawn's eyes shifted from the floor to the wall to the ceiling, anywhere but Lassiter's face. "I was wondering if it had anything to do with…guys." He bit his lip uneasily. This had been a bad idea. A very very very bad idea.

"Guys?" Lassiter repeated questioningly, his tone changing slightly.

Shawn finally met Lassiter's eyes. Might as well go all the way now. "Yeah. Guys…and you. You and guys."

Lassiter stood, putting his hands on his desk and leaning over until their faces were less than a foot apart from each other. His tone took on a falsely friendly tone, but Shawn easily detected the hidden threat underneath. "Why would you ask that?"

"I…had a vision," Shawn said weakly, shrinking back.

Lassiter grabbed the front of Shawn's shirt, holding him hostage. "Enough with the psychic bullcrap. I want the truth. _Now_."

Shawn stared at the piercing blue eyes across from him, and, feeling uncomfortably warm all of a sudden, realized for the first time that the Head Detective really was pretty decent looking. "Fine. Whatever." He tore Lassiter's hands away and leaned in on his own, turning so that his mouth was right by Lassiter's ear. "I've got the hots for you, okay?" he said roughly. He backed up so that he could see Lassiter's whole face again. The detective looked completely shocked. "I was just wondering if I had a chance with you, that's all," Shawn explained quickly and quietly. "But that's obviously never gonna happen, so just forget it." Turning hastily, he high-tailed it out of the station before Lassiter had a chance to shoot him.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

"You did WHAT?" Gus yelled. A woman walking past the doorway gave him a strange look. Gus lowered his voice, hissing, "What were you _thinking_?"

Shawn fiddled with a button on his shirt as he leaned against the wall of Gus's hospital room. "I was thinking of that little vision you had."

Gus rubbed his temples, trying to take deep calming breaths.

"So…I was hoping you could try to get another vision." Shawn said.

Gus stared at him. "What?"

"I just want to know if Lassiter is planning on killing me in my sleep or something," Shawn explained.

"Shawn, so far this 'gift' or whatever it is has just brought trouble. I don't think using it again is going to help at all."

"Please?" Shawn said softly.

"Stop looking at me like that," Gus said, annoyed. "You know I can't stand it."

Shawn widened his eyes and stuck out his lower lip, letting it tremble slightly. "You also can't resist it."

Gus rolled his eyes and stuck out his arm. "Fine. But you had better keep me out of this mess."

"Right-o," Shawn agreed. Reaching out, he put his hand around Gus's wrist, and Gus grabbed his.

A now-familiar scene appeared. "You have _got_ to be kidding," Gus said. He considered ending it there, but decided to follow through just in case something had changed. It hadn't. He released Shawn's arm.

"What? What?" Shawn asked nervously.

"It's the same," Gus said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Exactly the same."

"Are you serious?" Shawn gaped. "But…how? That can't be right."

Gus jumped at that. "Maybe it's not. This could all just be some sort of trick."

"What time is it?" Shawn asked suddenly.

"Nine fifty-seven," Gus said automatically, without looking at the clock.

"It's not a trick," Shawn assured him.

A nurse came in to tell them that visiting hours were almost over. Instead of leaving, she stayed, waiting for Shawn to go. Shawn and Gus made brief faces at each other.

"Guess I'll see you," Shawn said as he walked out of the room.

"Shawn," Gus said, concerned.

"I'll be careful," Shawn promised. He gave his friend a double thumbs-up before jogging down the hallway.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

Shawn had been in his apartment no more than three minutes when the doorbell rang. Changing his course from the kitchen back to the front door, he threw it open impatiently. Lassiter stood on his doorstep, still dressed in his work clothes, gun holster and all.

"What are you stalking me now?" Shawn asked, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"Don't be stupid," Lassiter said, practically glaring at him. "I got here ten minutes ago and waited in my car when you didn't answer the door the first time."

"Oh."

When Shawn stayed in the doorway, staring at him, Lassiter finally said, "Are you going to let me in or not?"

"Depends," Shawn answered. "Are you planning on shooting me?"

"Depends," Lassiter responded, copying him. "Are you planning on annoying the hell out of me?"

Shawn pretended to think it over. "Eh, I guess I could try to control myself for a few minutes."

"Great," Lassiter said shortly.

Shawn stepped back, leaving Lassiter room to get past him. The detective edged by, making his way inside. Shawn shut the door behind him and walked over to his comfy chair, settling himself down in it. He gestured towards the nearby couch, saying, "So, what brings you to my humble abode this fine night?"

Lassiter eyed the stained couch and chose to half sit, half lean against the armrest on the side instead. He turned his sharp gaze towards Shawn. "What you said earlier. Did you mean it?"

"Yes, I did," Shawn said seriously. He had had plenty of time afterwards to think it over.

Lassiter seemed to believe him. They sat silently for a moment before Lassiter spoke again. "You were right. About the other thing."

Shawn looked at him in surprise. "About you and your wife?"

"Ex-wife," Lassiter corrected automatically. "Yeah."

"Oh." Shawn bit his lip, not sure what to say. "Sorry."

Lassiter held Shawn's eyes with his own, and Shawn realized the implications of what Lassiter had just admitted.

"Oh…_oh_…so…does that mean that…" Shawn hesitated before continuing. "I might have a chance after all?" Hope slipped into his voice at the end.

Lassiter flashed an uncharacteristically nervous smile his way. "Spencer—Shawn…you have more than a chance. I've been…attracted to you for months." His face and ears tinted a slight red at his confession.

"Seriously?" Shawn said, taken aback. "But…"

Lassiter shifted uncomfortably. "I know. I always act like I hate your guts. The truth is…I was afraid." He grimaced. "Afraid of admitting to myself that I actually liked you. Afraid of falling for the wrong guy. Again." He examined his hands as he spoke. "The last time…" He shook his head. "Doesn't matter anymore."

Shawn looked at him with undisguised pity. "I've been there," he said understandingly. "Straight guys are annoying that way."

Lassiter smiled genuinely. Shawn smiled back, saying, "That's nice. Your smile, I mean. You should show it more often."

Lassiter's smile faded. "Why are you being so nice to me? I've been horrible to you."

Shawn stood up and walked over, taking Lassiter's hand cautiously. "You're not a bad guy, Lassy. I know that."

"How?" Lassiter said softly, leaning towards Shawn a little.

Shawn rubbed his thumb over the top of the other man's hand. "You're a cop, you help people, you fight for justice..."

Lassiter's eyes shifted to look at Shawn's mouth as he spoke.

Shawn grinned and leaned closer. "Your eyes sparkle when you solve a case, you got my motorcycle back for me…"

Lassiter's smile returned, and he looked up at Shawn. "You're welcome."

"I never got to thank you properly," Shawn said softly, moving so that their mouths were mere inches apart.

They grinned at each other.

"You're such a tease," Lassiter told him.

"You love it," Shawn said, ghosting his lips over the other man's.

"I love _you_," Lassiter whispered.

Shawn felt his heart jump at the words. Their eyes met briefly, and then they were kissing. Shawn pressed his lips against Lassiter's insistently, and Lassiter pressed back with equal intensity. Shawn's hand rested on Lassiter's thigh for support, and Lassiter's hand moved to the back of Shawn's head, pulling them even closer together. Light-headed, Shawn lost track of the world around him. All of his senses zoned in on the man with him, and it was as though it was just him and Lassiter forever; nothing else mattered. Opting to deepen the kiss, Lassiter parted his lips, allowing Shawn to venture further. Loathe to part, but needing a more comfortable position, they shifted so that Lassiter could stand, and moved to the couch cushions without losing their rhythm. Shawn pushed Lassiter down, allowing the younger man to straddle the detective. Hands and tongues roamed heatedly. When his fingertips brushed against something hard, Shawn finally broke the kiss, laughing. "You might want to take your gun off," he suggested.

Lassiter surged up, surprising him with a quick kiss before unclipping the gun and laying it on the nearby table. "Better?"

"Hmm," Shawn tapped his chin as he observed the man splayed out beneath him. "I dunno…I think there's still something wrong…"

"What?" Lassiter asked, confused.

Shawn pursed his lips, pretending to think. "Well, there seems to be some sort of material still on you…this thing here." He fingered Lassiter's shirt, playing with a corner that had gotten un-tucked.

Lassiter tugged at Shawn's shirt. "You seem to be wearing one of those yourself."

"Weird…" Shawn pulled harder at the cloth between his fingers. "I don't think we need them. What do you think?"

"I think this is taking too long," Lassiter said honestly. Gripping the sides of Shawn's shirt, he swiftly pulled it up. Shawn lifted his arms, allowing the material to slide over his head.

Lassiter cast the garment to the side, turning his attention to Shawn's now ruffled hair. Fingering it briefly, he suddenly grabbed a fistful and pulled Shawn down into another kiss. Shawn grinned into it and responded eagerly. After a moment, he pulled back briefly, just long enough to roughly pull Lassiter's shirt out of the grip of his pants.

"Don't rip my buttons," Lassiter told him.

"You are way too uptight for someone who has a horny man sitting on top of him," Shawn informed him. He pulled off Lassiter's shoulder holster and then lifted the shirt caaaaarefully over Lassiter's head as the other man leaned forward enough for him to remove it completely. As soon as it was gone, Shawn ran his hands curiously over the exposed skin in front of him. Lassiter's chest heaved slightly with his ragged breaths. Wanting to get even closer, Shawn laid his head over Lassiter's heart, listening to the rapid beat. It was comfortable, and he found himself unwilling to move. Sensing how he was feeling, Lassiter wrapped an arm around Shawn as best he could, letting his other hand float lazily over the shoulders of the man in front of him. Eventually, Shawn lifted his head slightly, and moved his arms so that he could fold them across Lassiter's chest and rest his chin on top of them. They simply looked at each other for a while, communicating silently.

"When did you first realize you liked me?" Shawn asked, finally breaking the silence.

Lassiter reached out to Shawn's hair again, playing with it absently. "Consciously? When you sat on my lap during the case where you carried around that damn cat the entire time."

Shawn laughed. "You mean—"

"Yeah," Lassiter said, embarrassed. "It was hard to deny after that."

"I'm sorry," Shawn grinned.

"I'm not," Lassiter assured him.

"Awww," Shawn crooned.

Lassiter smacked him lightly on the head. "What about you? When did you first realize?"

Shawn bit his lip. "Consciously? This afternoon, when you grabbed me at the station."

"You're kidding," Lassiter said dubiously.

"Nope," Shawn shook his head.

Lassiter paused. "Is this just a spur-of-the-moment thing for you?"

Shawn looked at him sharply. "I might have just found out how I really feel about you, but that doesn't mean I feel any less than you do. All those times I found any excuse to touch you, drive you crazy? I don't waste energy like that on just anyone."

Lassiter still looked unsure, so Shawn sat up, leaned forward, and, taking Lassiter's head in both of his hands, kissed him as passionately as he could. Lassiter was just getting into it when Shawn pulled away, saying, "Satisfied?" Lassiter growled and tugged him back until their lips were together again. As they continued to kiss fervently, Shawn let one of his hands wander down until it was fiddling with Lassiter's belt buckle. Lassiter's hand fell over his, stopping him. The detective gave him one last kiss before sitting up. Shawn slid over so that they were sitting next to each other. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lassiter assured him. "Really, nothing at all. I just think…maybe we should take some time…"

"What? Why? How much time?" Shawn pouted.

Lassiter smiled at him before reaching down to grab his shirt. Pulling it back over his head, he said, "I should probably sleep at my own place tonight." He picked up the gun and clipped it back into its holster. He stood up and Shawn joined him, walking him to the door.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

Lassiter turned to face him. "Because if I stay any longer I won't be able to leave."

"Nothing wrong with that," Shawn muttered.

Lassiter drew him into a hug. "I'll see you soon."

Shawn hugged him back and then pulled back far enough within Lassiter's arm-hold to give him a quick kiss. Lassiter returned it and then headed off down the stairs. Shawn watched him go to his car, waving as he drove off. Shutting the door and locking it, he leaned his back against the sturdy wood, replaying the events of the night in his head. Suddenly he thought of something. Walking quickly over to the kitchen counter, he grabbed his phone and hit speed dial.

"Shawn?" Gus mumbled blearily from the other side of the line.

"Gus! Guess what?" Shawn started bouncing excitedly at the prospect of telling his best friend what had happened.

"What?" Gus asked tiredly, playing along.

"Me and Lassiter totally just made out on my couch!" Shawn practically yelled.

"What?!" Gus's voice sharpened considerably.

"He just came over and admitted that he liked me!"

"Is this a joke?" Gus said, sounding like he hoped it was.

"Nope, no joke, buddy! We were lip to lip!" Shawn walked in zigzags around the apartment, unable to stay still.

"Okay, _really_ don't need to hear the details," Gus said.

"Guuuus, I need someone to talk to about it!" Shawn whined.

"Why don't you call Lassiter?" Gus suggested.

"That doesn't count! He was here! Plus, he's not even home yet; he just left."

"Look, Shawn, I'm happy for you…I guess. I mean, if you're happy--"

"I am!"

"Then I hope everything works out with you two," Gus said sincerely. "But seriously, come on. It's late, and I really don't want to think about Lassiter and kissing at the same time."

"Oh, fine," Shawn gave in. "But I'm still all hyper, so can we talk about something?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno…pineapples?"

"Goodnight, Shawn."

After a few more minutes of friendly arguing, they hung up. Shawn stared at the phone for a while, debating whether or not to call Lassiter. Giving in, he dialed the number.

Lassiter picked up before the first ring had even finished. "Shawn?"

"Hey, Lassy," Shawn smiled at the sound of his voice. "I hope you don't mind…I can't stop thinking about you."

"I'm thinking of you too," Lassiter replied. "But I do actually need to get somesleep so that I don't collapse at work tomorrow."

"Oh, right, sorry."

"Don't apologize," Lassiter said. "I'm glad you called."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks," Shawn said happily. "I guess I'll say goodnight now. Wouldn't want you losing any beauty sleep; I like my men handsome."

Lassiter chuckled. "Goodnight, Shawn."

"Later, Lassy." Smiling, he hung up. Tomorrow was way too far away.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

The alarm clock buzzed, and Carlton was pulled out of a pleasant dream. Sitting up, he waited for his jumbled thoughts to become more coherent. Remembering the details of the dream, he wondered briefly if none of it had been real. After rolling his head to get rid of a crick in his neck, he reached over to the bedside dresser and picked up his phone. Flipping it open, he checked the last number that had called. Shawn Spencer. Carlton smiled; it really had happened. He felt strangely cheerful. Usually when he got up in the mornings, all he had to look forward to was another day at work and the possibility of a chance to rough up some criminals. Now…well, who knew what today would bring.

He went through his normal morning rituals, thinking of Shawn all the while. Downing the last few drops in his coffee mug, he got his briefcase and headed off to the station. It was a dull day of paperwork, and time passed slowly. Finally, Carlton decided to take his lunch break. He was just putting the finishing touches on a report when he got the urge to glance up. A few yards away, Shawn was approaching him. Carlton got a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Would Spencer know not to say anything? He could not begin to imagine the ramifications of his co-workers finding out about them. But Shawn merely looked at him briefly as he passed right by his desk. Carlton didn't have to watch him go; that hallway only led to the interrogation rooms. After a minute, he peered around to see if anyone was watching, and then scooted his chair back and stood. Taking a few papers so as not to appear suspicious, he headed off after Shawn. When he reached the end of the hallway, he turned a corner to find Shawn leaning against the wall, arms folded.

Shawn smiled at him. "Hey."

"Hello," Carlton responded, walking over until he was standing next to Shawn. Leaning slightly to the side, he rested his shoulder against the wall.

Shawn turned to face him. "So…" He reached a tentative hand out to Carlton's, brushing them together and interlocking their fingers. Carlton felt his hand tingle warmly. It was a new sensation; Victoria had never had a desire to participate in any of the normal sappy – as she had called them – activities that couples engaged in. Even something as simple and intimate as holding hands.

Carlton took advantage of the connection, pulling at Shawn's hand and forcing him closer. The other man had just enough time for a typical grin before Carlton pressed his lips to Shawn's. Kissing back eagerly, Shawn let go of Carlton's hand, shoving him against the wall and putting his arm behind Carlton's neck instead. His other arm snaked up to join the first one, and he edged even closer. Trapped between Shawn and the wall, Carlton dropped the papers he had been holding and wrapped his own arms tightly around Shawn's waist. He had never felt so close to anyone before in his life. With eyes closed, their tongues met, conveying in the most straightforward terms how both men felt about each other.

**0o0o0o0o0o**

**Epilogue**

Shawn waved the check happily in Gus's face as they walked out of the police station. "Another case solved!"

Gus snatched the check away from him. "No thanks to you."

"Come on, Gus-Gus, I already said I was sorry for being late!"

"Yeah, well, not enough," Gus told him. "I almost had to tell them about the vision myself to prevent that scumbag from getting away. What were you doing, anyway, that was so important?"

A huge smile lit up Shawn's face, and Gus could have sworn he went starry-eyed. "Shawn! You were with Lassiter?"

Shawn grinned at him. "I thought you didn't want details."

"I don't!" Gus said firmly.

"But I should really explain _exactly_ why we took so long! It's only fair, so that you understand…." Shawn protested.

"You know what? Forget it. Just, never mind," Gus said hastily, digging in his pocket for his keys.

Shawn shrugged, looking triumphant. "Okay Mr. Indecisive."

Gus unlocked the car and got in. "Are you coming or not?" he asked when Shawn didn't join him.

"Nah, I'm meeting Lassy in a few minutes."

Gus shook his head, torn between amusement and annoyance. "Why don't you two just get married already? You already see each other practically every minute of the day."

"And night," Shawn added for him.

Gus rolled his eyes in acknowledgement. "Whatever. See you later."

"Have fun selling your drugs!" Shawn called after him as he drove off.

Gus shook his head again. As he waited to turn out of the parking lot, he glanced into the rearview mirror. Lassiter exited the station and walked with Shawn to the side of the building where it was too dark to see anything. Gus chuckled and hit the gas peddle. Some things in life were stranger than psychic visions.

**The End**

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**A/N: Written for senor_coconut_1 for the Fall Fandom Free-For-All. Yeah…sorry for taking so long. I'm the worst procrastinator ever. Hope y'all enjoy it. As always, thanks for reading! :)**

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